Contact Sheet

(ahhhh) Frame one, you're laughing,

frame two, you're not

frame three I can't tell if it's cold or hot

frame four's overexposed, frame five is a blur

frame six might be you,

might be someone like her

I circled the good ones in red grease pencil but even the

good ones feel accidental thirty-six tiny version of a day

and none of them tell me the truth either way

Frame twenty's the one where you look right at me

frame twenty-one, you've already looked away

I've stared at the gap between twenty and one

longer than I ever stared at the sun

I circled the good ones in red grease pencil

but even the good ones feel accidental thirty-six tiny version of a

day

and none of them tell me the truth either way

(none

of them tell me...)

(either

way)